by Evie Hart
I couldn’t think about that. Amelie’s ghost wasn’t a priority—finding out what had happened to her pack was. The ghost could come later. Sometimes they took a while to show up, especially after a traumatic death.
With a sigh, I pulled out the first report and read through it. It seemed standard. It was hunting season, so they were out looking for deer to shoot. They happened across an aggressive cougar who came at them, so they shot it.
Never mind that cougars on this side of the Georgia-Florida line was a little strange.
I put it to the side and read on.
The second story was much the same, and so was the third. By the fifth one, hairs prickled on the back of my neck.
The same group of hunters were on regular hunts, in the same place, and the names overlapped several times on the reports. All the cougars were aggressive, attacking the hunters. Eventually, a huge task force was put together to kill the pack, and that was when I put down the report.
A chill ran down my spine.
There was a reason that towns like Haven Lake existed. There was a reason they were shrouded with the most powerful, ancient magic that ever existed. We needed to be safe, and life in the human world wasn’t safe for those who had no control over their magic.
Shifters didn’t have control.
What if the killings weren’t down to aggressive cougars?
Two short, sharp raps on the door had me jerking my head around. Detective Dax Sanders stood in the doorway, his blue eyes focused on me with his lips in a thin line.
“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” he asked in a droll tone.
“What? Can’t a witch do some research?”
“What are you researching?”
I didn’t say a word.
He stepped into the room. “If I had to guess,” he said in a slow voice. “I’d say you were here investigating Amelie Vine’s old pack.”
Still, I said nothing.
He chuckled. “Your cousin gave you up. She doesn’t have much of a poker face, does she?”
Dammit, Dotty.
“She doesn’t have a Go Fish face, never mind a poker face.” I folded my arms. “Yes, I’m here looking into it. Isn’t it weird that her entire pack ended up dead, then after a year, she’s dead?”
“If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t be here reading the information, would I?”
“You’re not reading it. You’re interrogating me about reading public articles.”
He opened his mouth, then paused, his lips slowly twisting into a smirk. “Touché, Ms. Thorn. Do you mind if I join you?”
I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t trust a slick witch in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. No, siree—nobody who looked that good in a shirt was trustworthy. “Do you have a warrant to look at this?”
He held up his hands. “No. Just some research. I won’t get in the way of yours.”
I hmphed. “Fine. They’re all in dated order.” I waved my hand at the articles I’d already read. “They’re backward, so start with the bottom one and work your way up.”
He sat down opposite me at the table and rearranged the articles with a flick of his hand.
I wanted to throw them at his face with a flick of mine.
“Anything interesting in them?” he asked, peering at me over the top of the first one.
“You’re the cop. Why don’t you read them and tell me?” I snarked.
“Has anyone told you that you’re a spitfire?”
“Has anyone introduced you to a Thorn witch?”
“Again, touché.” He inclined his head. “When you’re done, put the article on the pile. It’ll magically rearrange.”
Like I didn’t know how that spell worked.
I went back to my reading.
The more articles I read, the more my suspicion grew. There was no reasonable justification for why there were so many vicious cougars in southern Georgia. And they all attacked the hunters?
No. In my experience, shifters always ran from humans. They didn’t even like being around other paranormals in their were-form. The woods that made up almost a quarter of the boundaries of Haven Lake were their solace and provided them the freedom they needed and the privacy they preferred.
Why would a shifter cougar pack run toward a human?
It didn’t make sense.
And why would humans continue to hunt in cougar territory? Every human I’d met who hunted avoided that where it was possible. Cougars could be dangerous.
The chill that had shuddered down my spine earlier now felt ten times colder. It spread to my arms and legs where goosebumps came to life, prickling over my skin like a horrible, icy rash.
Detective Sanders looked over at me. “Are you all right?”
I’d read enough.
I nodded. “Make sure you put these back in order when you’re done. Dotty can’t usually do a finding spell to save her life, but the little nerd can curse anyone into next week.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” His lips twitched.
With that, I left the library, waving goodbye to my cousin on my way out.
What did all of this mean?
Was Amelie the intended target? And if she was, how was Betty Lou involved?
CHAPTER EIGHT
NOTHING MADE SENSE.
That was all I could think as I headed to Magic Bean, Haven Lake’s long-standing coffee shop. If you wanted information on anyone, you either went to Magic Bean or Evie’s, the hair and beauty salon.
They were both wildfire for gossip.
After my trip to the library where I’d confused myself even more, coffee was what I needed. At least there it was a subdued gossip where everything was whispered in your ear, not a conversation shared between eight people.
I pushed open the door and was immediately hit with the rich scent of freshly-brewed coffee mixed with pastries and pie and donuts and all things bad for one’s hips. Still, I pushed through, my mouth watering at the prospect of one of Ana-May’s apple pies.
I’d take it home for Aunt Rose as a peace offering. Baby steps and all that.
The line moved fast, as things tended to when you didn’t need anyone to make coffee because your magic did it. All Ana-May needed was someone who could serve and bake the pies.
Ana-May Dorset was far better at running the gossip mill than she was at baking pies, despite being a kitchen witch.
Magic Bean should have been called High School Two-Point-Oh.
And, for the first time in my life, here I was, searching it out.
I hated myself for needing to know about Amelie. I hated the gossip mill. I always had. Being a Thorn witch didn’t come without its issues. Our power was the source of many rumors.
An ancestor had made a deal with the devil. We practiced Black Magic. We were into necromancy. We summoned demons.
All the usual stuff you’d expect from people who didn’t have the power our bloodline contained.
High school had been tough, to say the least—for all of us.
I took a deep breath and stepped up to the counter when it was my turn.
Ana-May pressed her hand against her chest, taking a step back. “Avery Thorn, as I live and breathe. What are you doin’ here?”
She was about as convincing as Barbie pretending to be real. Bleach-blonde hair included.
“Do better, Ana-May. You know as well as I do why I’m here.”
She sighed, sagging. “All right. I knew you were home. Everyone does. I just have a flair for the dramatic.”
No kidding.
“I have a question,” I said slowly. “And I’ll take a latte when you’re ready.”
She rang up the sale. “Sure thing. Why don’t you take a seat over there and I’ll bring it on over when it’s ready?”
“Sounds good. Thank you.” I paid her and went to the only empty table in the back corner. Nobody ever sat there—they knew it was Ana-May’s table. She’d kicked people out of the store for sitting in that table before.
The chair squeaked against the tiled floor as I pulled it out to sit down. This place hadn’t changed in years. Ana-May had no need to change it. She was the only coffee shop in town, so as long as someone wanted the best coffee in the world combined with delicious sweet treats, they’d come, no matter how tired the décor was beginning to look.
I ignored the peeling paper off the wall next to me just in time.
Ana-May slipped into the chair opposite me and slid me a to-go cup of coffee. “Your latte. What do you want to know?”
“What do you know about Amelie Vine?”
She nodded somberly. “I thought that would be it. You found her, right?”
“You know dang well I found her, and no, I’m not here to talk about it.”
Her neon-pink nails flashed as she held out her hands. “Can’t blame a girl for tryin’.”
“Ana-May…” I sighed.
“All right, all right, keep your panties on, Avery Thorn,” she said, straightening up. She tucked some of her dry, bleached hair behind her ear. “I’m guessin’ you heard about that business with her pack in the human world?”
I nodded.
“That saves us some time.” She paused. “Where to start…”
“The beginnin’ would be real good,” I drawled.
She tutted. “Do you wanna know what I know or not?”
That depended on whether what she had was worth knowing. But if I knew Ana-May—and I sure did—it probably was.
I waved my hand and sipped my coffee. Ugh. It was so good.
“She didn’t really try to integrate with the shifters here,” she began, scratching the underside of her chin. Her lashes, coated thick with mascara to resemble spider legs, were a blur of black when she blinked. “She moved to town and quickly found her position with Betty Lou. It would have been suspicious if the previous assistant hadn’t been having a baby. Jemma was happy to step aside, and from all I heard, Amelie was phenomenal at her job.
“She had a past, but she didn’t talk about her old pack. I got the impression there were a lot of issues, and after doing some digging, I wasn’t far off the mark. She had a bad break-up with an ex in the pack. He was one of the few who escaped being killed.”
“They weren’t all killed?”
She shook her head. “Sure weren’t. When it was obvious that the hunters were targeting them and spinning stories in the human media, the remaining members of the pack dispersed. Some—like Amelie—came to the Havens, but many others simply moved or went on extended vacations.”
“How do you know this?”
“People talk when they drink,” she said simply. “One belated welcome party for Amelie and she loosened her tongue to Sarah Machlan. They were fast friends.”
Of course, they were. Sarah Machlan could be friends with a rock if she talked to it long enough. She was the kind of person who would talk your life story out of you.
Then she’d write your biography and tell everyone everything.
I wasn’t surprised she’d latched onto Amelie. An outsider who didn’t know how big her mouth was? She was easy pickings for the main station of the gossip train.
“What happened with her ex?”
“Amelie’s? She never said. I heard a rumor that he’d tried to contact her at work. Moving here had been a fresh start for her, and apparently, she wasn’t interested in rekindling her relationship with him. He was pretty persistent, but she was havin’ none of it.”
“Do you know his name?”
Ana-May shook her head. “I don’t. I bet Sarah does, though.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” I groaned.
“Y’all still don’t talk?”
“I’d sooner jump into the lake than talk to her, but it looks like I don’t have a choice.”
Ana-May’s eyes glittered. “Old grudges die hard, huh?”
“Ana-May, she slept with my high school boyfriend in the backseat of his car. I might not care for him, but that doesn’t mean I’m obligated to forgive her.” I took the last sip of my coffee and crunched the cup, tossing it in the trash behind me. “Thanks. I appreciate you takin’ the time to talk with me.”
“Pish.” She waved her hand as we both stood. “If I didn’t, you’d have made me.”
“With my Black Magic.”
Her eyes still glittered, this time with laughter. “And all those ghoulies and zombies y’all keep in your backyard.” She could barely get her words out without giggling. “If y’all raise me a dang good-lookin’ man, you call me right away.”
“A Thorn witch never breaks a promise,” I reminded her. “I think you have that in blood with my aunts.”
“I sure do.” She nodded. “And talkin’ of dang good-lookin’…” She trailed off and looked toward the door.
I peered over my shoulder.
Detective Dax Sanders was in the building.
Goddamn it.
He was like a bad rash, wasn’t he?
“Ms. Thorn. Color me surprised to see you here.” His blue-green eyes shone with mirth, and his lips twisted into an amused smile.
I folded my arms. “What? I can’t buy coffee now? Are you followin’ me?”
“If I were following you I’d have found you here before now, don’t you think?”
“Depends how good a cop you are.”
“Too good.”
“That’s usually what the bad ones say.”
Ana-May snorted, drawing level with me. “Detective, take some advice from a lady over here. Quit while you’re behind. You ain’t ever gonna find yourself outwittin’ a Thorn witch. She’s got your number and then some.”
He swung his gaze from me to her. “Ms. Dorset, I assure you I’m more than capable of handling Ms. Thorn’s attitude problem.”
“Attitude problem? What am I, thirteen?” My fingers sparked with magic.
Ana-May straightened and all humor escaped her expression. “Detective Sanders, you may think you’re a hotshot around here, but let me tell you somethin’, sir.” She stepped toward him, craning her neck so her five-foot-two frame could look his six-foot-plus one in the eye. “You annoy her in my establishment, and a bill for the damage is in your mailbox tomorrow. Anyone worth their salt in this town knows their magic is bottomless, and I have a builder who won’t mind invoicin’ you to remind you of that.”
The entire coffee shop was now watching this exchange with great interest. Eyes everywhere were focused on this threesome—the coffee connoisseur, the youngest Thorn witch, and the newest detective in town.
Ana-May was the gossip queen, but she wasn’t exactly at the bottom of the power totem pole. When she told you to behave, you did just that.
Everyone knew that.
“Ms. Dorset, I’m simply here to get my coffee,” Detective Sanders said in an amicable voice.
“Then you apologize to Avery for bein’ rude and I’ll see that you get some,” she shot back.
He shrugged one shoulder. “She has an attitude, and it’s a problem for me. I’m not apologizing for the truth.”
She snorted. “Then if you wake up covered in boils, know that you asked for it.”
Detective Sanders slid his eyes to me. “It’s illegal to use magic on a police officer.”
I shrugged, offering him my best smile. “Only if you can prove I did it.”
“Magical signature,” he reminded me.
“And everyone will say you deserved it,” Ana-May said. “Get yourself to that counter and buy your coffee before I change my mind about servin’ you,” she finished sternly. “And the rest of y’all nosy witches get to drinkin’ yours!”
With that, she grabbed my hand and marched me out of the shop.
“He’s starting to get on my nerves,” I muttered, flexing my fingers. Inside my mind, I silently chanted an incantation using a word a lady should never say out loud and sent the spell his way with a little too much intent behind it.
She looked at me, eyes glittering. “You just cursed him, didn�
�t you?”
I put my hands in my pockets and grinned. “He’s gonna have a real visible problem in around an hour. Thank you, by the way. You’re the best.”
Her laughter followed me as realization sunk in.
I even giggled to myself.
I was going to be in so much trouble.
CHAPTER NINE
“AVERY THORN! I know you’re in there!” Detective Sanders’ voice was accompanied by loud banging on the front door.
Grandma popped into view. “That nice new detective is on the doorstep shoutin’ for you, Avery.”
“I know he is. I’m ignoring him,” I replied, flicking the page of the book I had in front of me.
Werecats. I wanted to know more about Amelie and her kind.
Aunt Rose sighed. “She even spelled the door so he can’t enter the house.”
TJ sniggered, face buried in his tablet. “She cursed him.”
“It was his own fault. He was warned.” I sniffed and turned another page. “He might learn to watch his mouth in the future.”
Grandma frowned, and she popped out of the room.
“You cursed the bloody detective?” Angus jumped onto the table and stared at me.
“Git!” Aunt Rose pushed him off. “Not on the table, you stupid animal! How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Until you’re suitably fed up of telling me and give up,” Angus replied smartly, then turned his attention back to me.
“Avery! Open the door before I come back here with a warrant to arrest you!” Detective Sanders shouted. “And control your grandmother!”
I snorted, but Aunt Rose’s eyes widened.
“Let him in and sort it out,” she said, setting a jug of sweet tea on the table.
“Nope. He won’t arrest me.”
TJ frowned at me. “How do you know?”
I looked at my little cousin and said, “Because if he arrests me, I won’t lift the curse.”
“You’re smart.”
“She’s a bad influence is what she is,” Aunt Rose said, lightly whipping my shoulder with a towel.
Grandma burst into view, and peals of her light, airy laughter filled the room. She doubled at the waist, her head going right through the corner of the table, but she didn’t notice.
